


cry havoc

by Timballisto



Series: clarke and lexa vs the world [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-23
Updated: 2015-02-23
Packaged: 2018-03-14 16:30:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3417674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Timballisto/pseuds/Timballisto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke and Lexa prepare each other for war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	cry havoc

**Author's Note:**

> based on the prompt "lexa helps clarke put on her armor and clarke puts on warpaint. intimate and angsty please"

Clarke could put it on herself. She could brush Lexa’s hands away and adjust the armor that lies heavy on her shoulders; she’s prepared for enough battles to know the ins and outs of the buckles and leather. Clarke knows the heft of it, and the way it’s supposed to slide and contract with her movements, aided by laces and strong stitching.

But this battle is different, and she lets Lexa work.

The air is still in Lexa’s tent- their tent, she supposes, after hers was destroyed during a raid and Lexa offered to share. It’s heavy, and it seems to press at her from all sides, where only the night before it had seemed comfortable and homely.

"This is not like the other times." Lexa said, her voice loud in the quiet.

"No." Clarke agreed, her eyes flicking from their position studying the ceiling of the tent to Lexa’s face. It is more solemn than usual, but Clarke has gotten decent at guessing the commander’s mood. 

She is afraid.

"You may die." Lexa said, tightening the last buckle and tucking the end away. Her hands dropped from Clarke’s shoulders to rest on Clarke’s hips. She looked brittle, and small, even in her armor as she was.

"Yes." Clarke replied simply, her voice quiet. As if raising it will shatter Lexa for good, leaving nothing but sharp shards.

"That is unacceptable." Lexa said. She leaned forward, and pressed her forehead to Clarke’s own; and just breathing in air warmed by Clarke was enough. "I can’t- Clarke-"

"Sit down." Clarke broke in, taking Lexa by the hands and leading her to her bed. The commander sat.

"You’ll feel better once I put this on." Clarke promised, taking the jar of kohl from the small collection of Lexa’s personal affects at the foot of her cot.

"Do you recall how?" Lexa asked.

Clarke smiled. “I wasn’t that drunk.” Being a little tipsy is probably the only way Clarke would have been able to ask, but Lexa didn’t need to know that.

"As you say, Sky Princess."

"You must be really worried about me." Clarke joked. She added a drop of water to the dust, stirring it with a utensil into a watery paste. "You only get sassy when you worry."

"I do worry."Lexa admitted, uncharacteristically. She ignored Clarke’s look of surprise before she closed her eyes in a wordless invitation. Clark dipped her fingers in the paint, and began.

Clarke had found, in the few times that she’d done this before, that it didn’t matter what state she was in when she began. It was intimate, and quiet, and gentle, and she always felt her pulse slow, and her worries ease for a little while.  
She cradled Lexa’s face in her hands, smoothing her thumbs along Lexa’s eyelids. Lexa’s eyelashes tickled her skin, and the warmth of her face was comforting against Clarke’s hands.

“I have been a hypocrite.” Lexa murmured, her eyes still shut. Her lips buzzed against Clarke’s wrist. “I preach to you of hardening your heart, of strength, but I am still-“ Lexa’s jaw tensed under Clarke’s hands. “-weak.”

Clarke dropped her hands, smeared from palm to fingertip with Lexa’s paint. She had brief thoughts of pressing it to Lexa’s heart, whispering reassurances into the commander’s hair, but dismissed them. “There are worse things.”

“Name them.” Lexa said, her voice ragged. She still had yet to open her eyes as if the very sight of Clarke in full battle dress would let loose her doubts.

“Dying alone.” 

On the Ark, it wasn’t death that she’d feared, but the void. Of floating away in the blackness of space, away from everything that she’d ever known and loved, alone.

“If you were fighting beside me, I would not worry.” Lexa said, raising her head and finally opening her eyes; the determination that settled in her eyes was reflected in the set of her shoulders. “We would be unstoppable, you and I.”

“Yeah.” Clarke smiled crookedly. “That’s probably why the plan calls for us to be on the other side of the battle. Your generals are concerned for your focus.”

Lexa’s stern visage broke into a small, slight smile. “You have a tendency to draw the eye.” She raised her eyebrows when Clarke opened her mouth to object, and the blonde grumbled when she snapped her mouth shut. “Now come, we have a war to finish.”

**Author's Note:**

> I may have failed at the angst, I'm going to be honest.


End file.
